Harry slowly slipped out of bed and let his feet hit the cold floor. He shivered and felt goosebumps creep up his body. He always thought goosebumps were the weirdest sensation. Rubbing his arms to regain the warmth they once had, Harry left his bedroom in search of some breakfast. He was starving this morning, which was new for him, and felt as if he could eat a horse.

He noticed that Professor Snape had not yet risen, otherwise he’d be getting an interrogation by now, either that or breakfast. He entered the kitchen hoping to get started on breakfast, before realizing there was no stove. After some deliberation, he called upon a house elf, which brought them some breakfast. The elf had brought up eggs and bacon, and he hoped the smell would invoke the man still sleeping. He didn’t really like to eat alone, seeing as how he had to do it for most of his life, or at least being ignored at the table. At least Severus made him feel like he was wanted, most of the time.

The bacon wasn’t as crispy as he would have normally liked, so he conjured the necessary utensils and started a fire to re-cook the bacon. He had just got done preparing the bacon when a noise from the living room caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of something in the shadows of the other room. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, and he picked up the spatula he had been using in a defensive manner.

Harry had seen a few scary movies in his time, and always thought that the characters that went to investigate the ‘frightening sound’ were incredibly stupid. So, why he was doing this now was beyond him. Holding the spatula tightly in his hand, he slowly crept into the living room, staying in the shadows as much as he could manage to keep from being seen.

He tried to scan his surroundings as much as he could, not wanting to jump into something recklessly. He thought it might have been a very good idea to call Professor Snape, but didn’t want to draw attention to himself, or Snape for that matter. He thought he had seen something moving a few times in the darkness, but realized as his heart was beating in his throat that it was only a piece of furniture, or a lamp. He had soon reached the corridor leading to their bedrooms, hoping to make a mad dash for Severus’ room.

Harry felt like he was being rather childish but he was positive he heard something that couldn’t be ignored. Shocked at hearing the noise, he had stupidly left his wand in the kitchen. All he had was his bloody spatula, which wouldn’t do much damage if the noise turned out to be an attacker. Harry had a feeling it was an attacker and it scared him not being able to see. The feeling of claustrophobia was strong, being in the dark slim corridor. Harry made his way to Snape's room quickly, but bumped into something and stopped right in his tracks. He didn't move for a few seconds and just listened to the sounds around him. He felt around and knew that what he bumped into was just a small table that held a candle. The sounds around him were soon noticeable. He could hear breathing. Was it his own? No...it was panting almost. Harry concentrated. He thought about running for it, but realized there really wasn’t anywhere to go. Harry was absolutely terrified, letting absurd thoughts run through his mind. He began to think his uncle was with him. But, that wasn’t possible, was it? Muggles couldn’t see the castle, and obviously, Vernon wouldn’t be able to get inside. But the thoughts continued to rampage his mind, making him think thoughts that weren’t true.

All these unreasonable ideas were running through Harry's mind a mile a minute, it seemed. Harry sucked in a gasp of breath when he suddenly felt something on his foot. Looking down, his glasses fell to the ground, and all he could see was a black blur. Harry then felt like he was back at his aunt and uncle’s house. Vernon was coming after him! He had to defend himself! Harry brought the spatula down with all his strength and hit his target. ‘Vernon’ stood up quickly but Harry couldn't see. He brought the spatula down hard on his uncle once, two more times, but the man pulled the spatula out of his hands and threw it in the corner. Harry felt defenseless and as if he couldn't move. He collapsed on the floor in fear and brought his knees up to his chest and buried his head. He rocked back and forth, the whole time he refused to hear anything. He didn't realize that whom he had been hitting was Del. Harry was too set on thinking that it was his abusive uncle.

…………………………………………….

Deliverance was walking the corridors, heading towards her cousin’s quarters. About five minutes prior she had run into the headmaster. They had had a brief conversation before he asked her to inform Severus that they needed to talk, preferably that morning. At the moment she was looking disgustedly at the snake that was trying to read her retina to allow her entrance into Snape’s rooms. She hated Snape’s security into his private rooms. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just have a password like a normal person.

Upon entering, she realized that Severus must still be asleep, considering there was no lights on in the living room, and more importantly, Severus wasn’t breathing down her neck as soon as she had come inside. Not wanting to wake the man, she quietly made her way into the living room and towards his bedroom. She wasn’t even sure if the man was even in his quarters. Perhaps he had already left to prepare for classes? She couldn’t be sure.

She walked slowly, not daring to risk Severus’ wrath, on the off chance he was still there, by turning on the lights and waking him from his slumber prematurely. She held her hands out in front of her, groping in the darkness for anything she might run into inadvertently. She had finally made it to the hallway that led to the bedrooms when her waving hands missed the stand that was against the wall in front of her. Her hip bumped the stand, and she heard something crash to the ground. Silently cursing herself, she held her breath, hoping she hadn’t disturbed her cousin’s slumber.

Deliverance had just started to move on again, not hearing any movement from the bedrooms, when a noise from directly behind her grabbed her attention. She could hear footsteps. She whipped around and came face to face with a shadowy figure. She gasped in surprise, and began breathing heavily. She accidentally kicked her foot out and came into contact with the other’s foot, presumably. Suddenly the person in front of her started hitting her with something, hard. She screamed as she was attacked again and again, before she overtook the figure and grabbed whatever he had been hitting her with, tossing it away. She was more than surprised when the person in front of her fell to the floor, curling into himself. She realized suddenly that it must be Harry. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Del saw for certain who was on the floor, whimpering in fear. Her heart constricted at the sight. She was relived when Severus swung open the door.

………………………………………

Snape woke up to a loud crash and then moments later he heard screams. He rushed down the hall, turned on the lights, and saw Potter crouched down in the corridor and Del holding onto her foot in pain with red marks all over her bare arms. “What is going on?” He sputtered trying to understand the scene before him.

“I think he mistook me for someone else.” began Deliverance, emphasizing her last words to her cousin. Severus looked confused before his eyes widened in understanding. “Would you like me to stay? I only came to deliver a message from Dumbledore. He wants to see you sometime today, but I do believe this will take precedence.” She said, watching Harry as he gingerly sat up and leaned against the wall. He seemed to have come to himself again, although he refused to meet either of their eyes.

“No, thank you Del, but I suppose it’s time we had a talk. Could you let Albus know I’ll speak with him later?”

“Of course.” She longed to wrap her arms around the boy huddled on the floor, but didn’t think it would go over too well with Harry at the moment. She’d stop by later to make sure he was all right, and to apologize for frightening him. She didn’t blame him in the least. The boy had so many frightening incidents to overcome from his past. She only hoped Severus could help. She quietly slipped out the door.

……………………………………

Severus stood silently in the hallway watching Harry, who continued to sit unmoving against the wall. Taking the initiative, he crouched down in front of the child and slowly placed his hands on Harry’s knees. He allowed it, much to the Professor’s surprise.

“Harry, will you come and sit with me on the couch?” he asked, trying not to intimidate or further scare the already frightened boy. He figured the couch was mutual territory, and besides which, the hallway floor wasn’t anyplace to hold such a serious conversation.

The two entered the living space and as Snape took his seat, Harry took a seat in the chair opposite the couch, seemingly trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Snape sighed, wishing he could figure out a way to bring the two of them closer together, so they could deal with Harry’s emotional demons. Harry didn’t trust very easily, but Severus fully intended to gain that trust.

As the silence continued, he finally decided to just cut straight to the point. He was going to ask Harry about his Uncle. He realized they had never really talked about the man, or too much about his living conditions at the Dursley’s. He actually couldn’t believe he hadn’t confronted the boy before. But, here went nothing…

“Harry, what happened in the hallway?” he asked, trying to break the ice.

Harry had taken the afghan that was draped over the back of his chair and pulled it over himself, trying to gather some warmth, even though he was currently sitting almost directly by the fire. Snape had a feeling it wasn’t just the chill in the room that was making him shivery. Harry seemed to look anywhere but at Severus.

“Harry?” he prodded.

“I’m not sure.” he finally relented and said.

“Who did you think Del was?” asked Snape. He wasn’t surprised when Harry began to thread his fingers through the loose fabric at the end of the blanket covering him.

“My Uncle.” he whispered, and then shot his eyes up at Snape, shocked. Apparently, he hadn’t meant to say that. Severus could tell by the sheer look of dread in the boy’s eyes. He hadn’t intended to give up that much information, but hopefully, since he had slipped up like that, he was more willing to talk than he thought.

"What would make you think your Uncle was at Hogwarts, Harry?" he asked, truly confused. The boy must realize the Muggle bastard couldn't even find

Hogwarts, even if he tried, let alone step a foot inside of the school.

Harry shifted once more. "I don't know." he said, seemingly confused himself. "It was dark." he tried to explain.

Severus thought he understood what the child was trying to enlighten him on, but wanted to hear the words from Harry. He needed this, to get his feelings, his thoughts, out in the open. As he observed the fidgeting boy, he noticed just how small he really was. Of course, he'd seen it before, but the boy absolutely looked engulfed by the armchair he was currently sitting in. It made him want to protect the boy from all the terrible things he was feeling about his past.

When Harry remained still and quiet and seemed unable to answer the question, he tried again. "When did you begin to believe your Uncle was in my chambers?" he asked, instead.

Harry seemed so lost and confused that Snape was considering letting the subject drop, before he came to his senses. Harry had to deal with this sometime, and pushing it away would never help. What happened before would always be there, lurking at the back of the boy's mind, just waiting for an opportunity to unleash itself. Better to try and handle it now, with someone there to help, rather than when something like this happens again with no one there to talk to when he panics.

He was surprised when he heard Harry speak. "When I had gone to wake you up." he finally answered, and then apparently decided to elaborate. "I went down the hallway, and that was when I heard breathing. It was so dark and I couldn't see anything. I guess my imagination just ran away with me." he said, trying to explain why he would possibly believe Vernon Dursley had gotten into their rooms.

"I see." replied Severus. He looked back at the hallway Harry had mentioned. He could see where the boy might be frightened, as it was pitch black down the corridor without the candle burning. It was also very narrow. A sudden idea had formulated in his mind, and he thought he might truly understand why Harry's mind had allowed itself to believe his Uncle had been here. He remembered how the boy had reacted when he had accidentally locked him in the closet at Del's home on the island. He had been nearly hysterical then. He could only imagine what the boy had been thinking as he heard someone else breathing beside him, combined with the narrow hallway and not being able to see. This was what had caused the panic attack and the subsequent belief that Vernon Dursley was there to hurt him. He suddenly wished he had done something more when he'd taken Harry from the Dursley's inadequate care.

Harry was following his professor's gaze, wondering what the older man was thinking. He saw where Severus was looking and shivered. He didn't think he'd be able to go down that hallway for a while without a sense of trepidation. He turned his stare and became aware of his teacher's eyes locked directly with his.

Harry looked down at his lap and stared as his thumbs intently. He said nothing. What was there to say anyway? It didn't matter....

Severus watched the boy, as he seemed to be deep in thought. He just wished the boy would talk to him. He needed to, and in a way, Severus needed to hear what was bothering Harry. How could he help if he didn’t know what was wrong…other than the obvious.

Harry wanted to leave. He didn't like the eyes that were digging into him. They made him feel uncomfortable. Without a word Harry got up in hopes that Snape would let him leave.

No such luck. Severus stood up as well when he tried to leave the living room. "Where are you going, Harry?"

"Um.... just to my...room," Harry said quietly.

"Harry, you can't run away from your problems." said Severus. "You need to talk about this. Please, won't you let me help you?"

Harry turned around to face his guardian in shame. "There isn't anything to talk about Professor," he protested. "It was a mistake, that's all."

"That was quite a grievous mistake, child. It's not one you're going to want to make in front of your friends, I'm sure." he said, trying to coerce the boy into speaking with him. He was running out of ideas.

Harry did a double take at his professor but ended up looking away. "It won't happen again. Can I go to my room sir?" Harry asked pleadingly.

"No." said Severus, hoping he wasn't going too far. "This needs to be discussed, you'll only regret it if you let it fester."

"Why would it fester? What would fester?" Harry asked getting annoyed.

"Your feelings, Harry. If you continue to keep all of your painful thoughts to yourself, they will only grow inside of you. Eventually, you're going to explode. Now, would you rather do that here, or Merlin only knows where else. Anything could trigger the kind of reaction you showed today, Harry. Please, come sit back down." he said, putting a little edge into his voice, letting Harry know he meant what he was saying.

Harry hesitated before he slowly took a step forward and then a couple more. He sat down and stared out into the room.

Severus was surprised that the boy was actually taking the initiative and coming back into the living room. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to say to him to get him to talk freely about what had happened with his Uncle.

Harry waited a few more seconds, deep in thought, before he looked over at Snape. He didn't know what to say so he waited for the man next to him to start the difficult conversation.

Severus decided to go back to the questioning he had started with. He just hoped he didn't scare Harry off. "Harry, can we talk about what happened this morning?" he asked first.

Harry slowly nodded but said nothing

Severus sighed. "You thought your Uncle was here, in the castle. Why do you think that was?" he paused before adding his own two cents, hoping it would help Harry along. "Was it because of the dark? Or perhaps a combination of the darkness and your claustrophobia. The hallway is very narrow, it's a miracle you haven't had a problem with it before." Severus thought Harry had had difficulty traversing the hallway before, but hadn't mentioned anything as long as Harry never showed any real fear. He didn't think it would be the same after this.

The truth was, Harry never was nervous about the hallway before. It was because of the mix of his claustrophobia and fear of his Uncle. How could he be so stupid to think his uncle was actually in the castle? Harry berated himself. He was full of guilt and shame. He needed to give Snape an answer. They couldn't very well sit there all day. "I think.... I think it was a mix of both. I was never...nervous in the hallway before..."

"Until now." muttered Snape. Severus saw Harry's face snap up at him at that little comment.

"Well...it was kind of just a reflex. I didn't even know what I had done until it was all over," Harry heard himself saying.

"You mean with the spatula?" he asked, not sure where Harry was heading with the conversation.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to hurt her. I hope she will be alright...I mean, I know she will but… the thing is I thought she was...I thought she was..." Harry trailed off with his eyes downcast.

"You can tell me Harry. Who did you think it was?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He only wished Harry would be able to say it this time while consciously thinking about it.

"I thought it was my uncle," Harry said quickly and then sighed.

Severus sighed as well. "Harry, what brought your Uncle to mind when you were in the hallway?" he asked, heading right into the heart of the matter. He wondered if this particular scene had anything to do with a past occurrence. Perhaps his Uncle had done something to him in the dark, perhaps in that damned cupboard.

"I don't know...it was...it was dark," Harry stuttered. It was such a hard topic to talk about. "It just reminded me of something that happened when I was 10. I heard the breathing and someone was there. It kind of.... sounded...it sounded like heavy thumping and just brought back memories."

Severus began to feel a pain in his chest. He couldn't even begin to imagine what that bastard had done to a ten-year-old child. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what had taken place, but now that the boy had gotten going, he wasn't about to stop him. "What memories?" he asked gently.

Harry hesitated once again. Did he really want to tell the man everything about his uncle? Maybe it was time.... "Sometimes in the middle of the night he came home drunk... He would get frustrated and throw me into the wall. One time there were candles all over the house because the power went out due to a storm and he put the candle out on the back of my shoulder. I still have traces of a scar but that was years ago. It wasn't his fault really. He was drunk and couldn't control his anger. I should have listened to him. If I had then he wouldn't have done that and I-" Harry stopped suddenly after realizing what he had just divulged.

Severus' eyes grew wide. He was having trouble suppressing his rage, but refused to let it show in front of Harry. He took a few calming breaths before returning his gaze to Harry. He didn't want the boy to think he was ashamed of him, not by any means. "Harry…"he paused, still not believing what he had just heard him say. "It was completely his fault." he said. "What he did to you was wrong, and not your fault at all. I assume he told you it was your fault? Do you actually believe that?" he asked, shocked. He longed to go back in time and do extensive damage to the overgrown bleached whale that had dared to hurt his child.

“I know it’s not my fault.” said Harry, rather convincingly, and had it not been for the statement he had just made, Severus probably would have believed him.

Severus merely looked at Harry, not letting his gaze waver. Eventually, Harry looked back down at his hands, which seemed to be perpetually twisted up in the afghan at this point. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, Harry.” he said, softly.

Harry’s eyes flashed. “I am telling the truth!” he partially yelled, although Snape could tell he wasn’t being completely truthful. Harry sighed, and slumped even further in his chair. “I don’t know…I don’t even know anymore.” he whispered, roughly rubbing his face with his hands.

Severus leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, trying to get somewhat closer to Harry, if only to help the boy believe that he was here, and wanted to help him.

“I must have done something to make them hate me.” said Harry out of the blue. “I mean, they never treated Dudley like they treated me, and if they had a thing against kids, they would have taken it out on him too, not just me, right?” he asked, not really asking Snape, but just talking out his feelings. Snape let him.

“Sometimes I really thought I deserved the punishments.” he said offhandedly, and Severus almost protested, but the boy continued. “One time, Dudley and I got into a huge fight, and I punched him in the stomach, but not until after he had hit me first. I know I deserved to be punished, but now I think…I know, that he went too far with me. He sent my cousin upstairs to his room to cool off, and then slammed my head against the wall until I passed out, screaming at me to never touch his son with my disgusting hands again. I woke up the next evening in my cupboard.” he said, shivering at the painful memories.

Snape’s mind could hardly process what this child had just told him. What that bastard had done to a defenseless boy made him sick. Surprisingly, Harry still seemed as if he was willing to talk, so he once again focused his attention on him. In a way, he didn’t want to hear all the horrible things that had happened to Harry, but he also knew this was helping the boy, and that was something he was more than willing to do.

“He loved to tell me how worthless I was, and how I would never amount to anything. Even my aunt Petunia would call me names and push me or slap me around, but usually she stayed out of it, but if my Uncle were being particularly vicious, she would throw in a few words, probably to appease him. They fought a lot about me, but she refused to get rid of me, I don’t know why, since they so obviously wanted to.”

Snape stared at Harry at that comment, but didn’t mention anything about it. “Harry, what do you think now, thinking back on all the things your Uncle said to you, do you agree with him?” he asked, truly wanting to know if the boy did. And if it came down to it, and Harry did believe those things, he’d try his damndest to change his mind, as they were completely untrue!

The raven-haired teen looked up at this question, not too surprised, as he had seen it coming with the other questions Snape had been asking him. He once again entwined his fingers through the loose threads at the ends of the afghan, giving himself something to do while he thought.

“I guess I know now that what he said and did to me wasn’t my fault, and that it was wrong, but still…it doesn’t stop it from hurting or me from wondering why he did it in the first place.” he finally said, thinking back to his DADA professor and Jeb. He was frightfully aware that there were people out there who only wanted to hurt him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him to make them feel that way. He refused to voice this to his guardian, as it would only illicit more questions and concerns.

Severus looked Harry in the eyes before he spoke. “I firmly believe your Uncle had problems, Harry. I don’t know why he took his anger out on you, but it was in no way, shape, or form, your fault. Never let your memories of him bring you down, you did nothing wrong.” Snape sighed.

“I won’t, I promise.” he said, looking down at his hands. “You know, this is the probably the most depressing conversation ever.” he said, but with a light tone in his voice.

Snape took the hint, realizing that Harry didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “It’s getting pretty late, Harry. It’s almost noon and you still haven’t had any breakfast.” he mentioned, nodding towards the kitchen where his meal lay forgotten.

Harry smiled shyly. “I’ll just throw that away then, and go get some lunch instead.” he said, standing up from the chair, stretching his stiff limbs. He was amazed at how quickly time had past.

“Alright, I’ll probably see you tonight at dinner, since I’ve got some more bloody grading to do.” He said, disgusted with the dismal progress his first year Potions students were making. “Sometimes I don’t even know why I bother.” He mumbled to himself, and failed to notice the slight smirk on his charge’s face.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, sir.” he said, slipping out the door.

……………………

Neville entered the Common Room later that afternoon, hoping to catch Harry before he went down to dinner. He saw Fred and George sitting at a secluded table over in the corner and headed towards them.

“Hey, am I interrupting?” he asked, hoping the twins weren’t in the midst of coming up with some elaborate scheme that would end with him being converted into some kind of unknown animal of unknown origin.

One of the twins looked up and shook his head. “Nah, we’re just working on some homework.” He said, giving him a wink. Neville seriously doubted it was homework they were working on.

“Sure.” he said, uncertainly. “Well, I was actually just wondering if you two had seen Harry in here at all today?” he asked. He noticed that both of their faces turned serious at the mention of Harry. “Is something wrong?” he asked, thoughts of what he had heard Ron and Hermione discussing their first night back resurfacing in his mind.

Fred sighed, resting his head in his hands. His father had owled him, asking him and George to keep an eye on Harry after what had happened to his relatives. Their dad hadn’t gone into the details, but just said that both Harry’s aunt and his cousin had been killed. Seeing as how Harry had a thing about rushing head first into danger, Arthur had apparently sought out the help of his children, since he wasn’t there to do it himself. Even if the twins were incredibly childish sometimes, their father knew they could be trusted when it came down to family, and Harry was family.

“We just heard that Harry’s had a rough time of it.” explained George, not wanting to slip too much information to the younger boy.

“You heard then?” he asked, thinking Ron had obviously told his brothers, why wouldn’t he?

“Who told you?” asked Fred and George simultaneously.

“Ron.” he explained. He sat down at the table, facing the two older Weasley boys, idly playing with a pencil that had been left lying on the edge. “I could hardly believe it, could you?”

Figuring Harry had told Ron, and in turn Ron had mentioned it to Neville, the twins agreed. “I know it. Harry just seems to have the worst of luck.” they said sadly.

“Did you see the bruises?” he asked, suddenly, startling Fred and George. They both looked at him in confusion.

“What bruises?” asked Fred, glancing over at George to see if he knew what Neville was talking about. He didn’t, and Fred refocused on the clumsy Gryffindor.

Neville took in the confused looks on both the teenager’s faces and suddenly realized he had made a mistake. “I think I just totally screwed up.” he moaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Wait, what bruises were you talking about? Does Harry have bruises?” asked Fred, concern in his voice.

Neville refused to look at either of them. “I can’t tell you, I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. I just thought you knew.” he said, miserably.

George placed his hands on the table, looking Neville intensely and directly in the eyes. “Longbottom, what bruises?” he demanded.

Gulping at the forceful look in the older teen’s eyes, he finally relented. “He’s going to kill me.” He muttered before continuing when George glared at him. “Our first night back, I overheard Ron talking to Hermione about Harry. Apparently, he had some really horrible bruises all over his back. Do you know about Snape?” he asked before continuing with the rest of the story.

They both nodded, Ron had told them that. They hadn’t been too thrilled about it, but Ron convinced them their Potions Professor was being good to Harry. If Harry was happy and okay with the situation, so were they.

“Well, Ron thought it was Snape who had hurt Harry.” he finished, coughing slightly into his hand. “Do you know if it’s true?” he asked then.

“No, I don’t think so. If this happened at the beginning of the term, then it couldn’t possibly be Snape. Ron would have thrown a fit already if it were.” said Fred, knowing that Ron had only mentioned the ‘Snape being an okay guy’ a few days ago. He wouldn’t have said that if he thought Snape had been hitting Harry.

“Then who did it?” asked Neville, looking angry at the thought of someone hurting his friend. Fred and George both looked surprised at this, never before seeing this side of their younger housemate, at least not quite to this extreme.

“I could take a really good guess.” said George heatedly. Fred nodded in agreement, knowing exactly whom his twin brother was thinking of.

“Who?” asked Neville, wanting to know for future reference.

“His Uncle.” spat George, and Neville gasped in surprise.

“What?” he yelled, drawing the attention of a few seventh years sitting at the couch. Fred and George waved them off, and they continued their game of Wizards Chess.

“He was a right bastard to Harry, and I’ve only met the man a handful of times to come to this conclusion.” remarked Fred. The three had simultaneously moved their heads closer together, trying to keep the prying ears of others from hearing their private conversation. They were beyond caring about silencing charms, and they knew no one in their right minds would try and eavesdrop on Fred and George Weasley for fear of their inventive retribution.

Neville sighed. “Should we talk to Harry about this?” he asked. “Or should we tell Professor Dumbledore? I mean, if it was his Uncle, he can’t be allowed to go back there this summer.” he stated.

“He wouldn’t no matter what, Snape has official guardianship over him, he’ll be staying with him over the summer hols.” replied George. Apparently Neville hadn’t known this much information about the whole guardianship deal between Snape and Harry.

“Oh.” said Neville, dumbly. “I didn’t know it was a long term thing.” He shrugged. “Well, still, we should still tell Dumbledore, right? Or at least Snape, if he’s his legal guardian now.” Neville tried to appeal to them. He really thought an adult should know about this.

“We’ll talk to Ron about this, Longbottom. After that, we’ll make a decision. For all we know he just got into some kind of fight with his lard ass of a cousin, Dudley.” said Fred, scathingly, thinking darkly about the entire Dursley family now…even if two thirds of them were dead.

Neville looked the twins in the eyes. “I don’t think a kid could do the damage Ron was describing that night.” he said, and shuddered.

The Weasley twins had a look of complete rage on their identical faces. “What kind of damage was done?” they asked. When the younger boy had said bruises, they had been imagining small bruises, not anything too incredibly serious.

The younger Gryffindor gripped his hands together tightly. “Ron said that it looked as if someone had stood on top of Harry’s back and started stomping him.” replied Neville, darkly.

They now had another, more sinister mental image in their minds at this idea, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Fred was seething. He roughly pulled a hand through his hair before slamming it back down on the table. “He could have killed Harry, doing that to him, he’s so damn small.” he fumed.

While the three of them had been intently talking, the Portrait had swung open and allowed entrance to none other than Ron. He saw the three talking animatedly and made his way over to them.

“What’s up, guys?” he asked, coming up from behind. He was shocked to see the anger rolling off his brothers. “Is everything okay?” he asked, thinking something horrible had happened.

“We need to talk to you.” said Fred, and pulled his younger brother down into an empty chair.

…………………………………

Needing some fresh air after the long talk with his guardian, Harry had gone outside, hoping to just be by himself for a while. He sat down by the lake in his favorite spot. It was a wonderful day, just warm enough for a long sleeved t-shirt, and with the gentle breeze lightly blowing his hair, Harry thought he could stay out here for the rest of the evening. After leaving Snape’s rooms, Harry had gone and eaten lunch alone, as he couldn’t find Ron or Hermione anywhere. That was odd to say the least, but he was craving alone time lately, and had rather enjoyed eating his lunch by himself.

Now he sat staring out across the lake, completely content. He briefly worried about how much information he had let slip with his Professor. He was regretting some of the things he had finally revealed. He didn’t really want to take back the things he’d said, but then again, he felt an odd sense of apprehension inside of himself at the thought that Snape now knew most of his deepest secrets. Would the man think he was a complete idiot for letting the Dursleys’ treat him like that? Hell, that was what he thought about himself. He wished he could change the past, but he knew he couldn’t. Every time he thought back on his time at the Dursleys’ he felt ashamed of himself. The things they used to say to him still haunted his memories and his nightmares. And he hated them for that. He couldn’t even have a moment of peace without thinking back on his damnable relatives. He knew he was being irrational, but he sometimes feared his friends and now Severus would start thinking the same foul things his relatives thought of him. That they would think he was rubbish, as his Uncle so often referred to him as. That he wasn’t worth the time and effort it would take to love him, as he wasn’t worthy of love. He hurtfully wondered if there truly was something about him that caused others to hate him. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, that made his relatives loathe him so much, but if he only knew, he would change; he’d stop doing whatever it was that made them sick to even be in his presence. But he didn’t know what it was.

A light pull on his sleeve was what pulled him from his dark thoughts. He turned his body slightly and saw big brown eyes staring up at him and felt a cold wet nose touching his hand. “Hey, Zane.” said Harry, petting the dog affectionately. He took both of the dog’s ears in his hands and rubbed them, causing Zane to thump his tail excitedly.

Harry reached inside his pocket and pulled out a piece of bacon for the Rottweiler and the dog nearly took off his hand in his exuberance. Zane had a deep love for bacon, as Harry had discovered a few days ago when he’d taken a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich outside with him. Zane had immediately nipped the entire sandwich out of his hand and ripped it to shreds before devouring the bacon and leaving the rest a mess on the grass. Harry fed him his entire stash of bacon that he’d had Dobby get from the kitchens just this morning, all the while rubbing the dog’s ears. Zane was in heaven.

“It’s almost time for dinner, Zane. I’ve got to go.” he remarked, looking down at his watch. He would rather skip, but knew Snape would come looking for him if he didn’t show up in the Great Hall for the meal.

Harry took his leave of his pet, trying hard to ignore the whining dog, and entered the castle. As he reached the doors to the Great Hall, he heard people talking heatedly down towards the dungeons. Curiosity getting the better of him, he quietly crept over until he was against the wall beside the corridor leading down into the dungeons. Peeking his head around the corner, he was very surprised at what he saw. Professor Dillard had Draco Malfoy practically cornered against the wall, his face red in his rage, talking quietly but heatedly to the young Slytherin. Harry assumed that Malfoy had gone and done something stupid, like mouthing off to Dillard, and was getting a verbal lashing from the hotheaded new teacher. However he grew steadily more alarmed as the Professor began violently jabbing Malfoy in the chest, causing him to flinch. Harry had never seen Malfoy flinch. He didn’t like the cocky Slytherin, but he didn’t want what had happened to him in the DADA classroom the night before to happen to Malfoy. He did the first thing he could think of. Not wanting to make his presence known, he pushed the suit of armor that stood a few feet away to the ground.

The loud clash and clatter of the armor hitting the floor was enough of a suitable distraction for Malfoy to escape from Professor Dillard and hurry towards the Great Hall.

“I’m on to you Malfoy.” stated the older man, before following Malfoy’s lead.

Harry saw the glare Malfoy had leveled at their Professor when he had passed the teen and then disappeared behind the large doors. Neither noticed Harry hiding in the shadows.

“Bastard.” hissed Malfoy, not knowing he had an audience.

As the blonde haired teen was about to the massive doors leading into the Great Hall, Harry started towards them as well, knowing he was a little late as it was, and not wanting to be even later. Unfortunately, as soon as he took a step, his foot crashed into a metal arm. The racket he made drew Malfoy’s attention again and he stood stock still, cursing his clumsiness.

“Potter?” asked Malfoy, apparently stunned to realize this particular Gryffindor had just gotten him out of trouble with Professor Dillard.

Harry remained silent, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Draco Malfoy nodded his head, as if acknowledging what Harry had done on his behalf and then disappeared as well behind the large doors.

Harry sighed. ‘Well, that went a lot better than it could have gone.’ He thought, and curiously shook his head at the way Malfoy had just acted towards him. He couldn’t deny that the Slytherin hadn’t been near as callous towards him and his friends this year. He wondered what had happened to cause such a drastic change.

He was also interested in knowing what the argument had been about between Draco Malfoy and Professor Dillard. It had been pretty intense, whatever it had been about.

Dismissing his thoughts to think about at a later time, he quickly made his way into the Great Hall. Making eye contact with Snape, he nodded when the older man enquired through his eyes if he was okay. Taking a seat, he began piling food onto his plate. He was rather hungry. Looking around the table, he noticed that quite a few of his friends were missing. Shrugging off a sudden feeling of dread, he forced himself to finish his plate. Later, he would wish he had paid more attention to his senses.